


Restore

by 127s



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Actor Doyoung, Alternate Universe, Completed, Feelings Realization, Fluff, Friendship Bracelets, Happy Ending, M/M, Reuniting, also jealous taeyong, angsty taeyong, author is a lazy editor, because they have a History, featuring taeyong's best friend yuta, ignoring of feelings, kinda hurt/comfort, lost friendship?, makeup artist taeyong, taeyong kinda hates doyoung, yes i have another fic with actor doyoung moving on
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 12:14:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29471538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/127s/pseuds/127s
Summary: "Why? Don't tell me you have a history with an actor that I don't know about.""A history. I guess you could call it that." The blonde mutters, with enough bitterness in the tone for Yuta to lean forward, more curious with every moment."Tell me."Taeyong shakes his head, not lifting his gaze from where he washes a particular brush a little too thoroughly. "It's nothing big. Just— Just knew him before he was an actor. Kind of the 'forgets about anyone who isn't famous' type."Yuta groans. "I hate working with those."The other seems satisfied with the explanation, and gets up to attend to something else, though Taeyong's left with a slight sense of guilt.It's not like he'd lied, exactly. Hehadknown Kim Doyoung before he was an actor, before he was known at all, and he certainlywasthat type— Taeyong had just conveniently left out the part about Doyoung having once been his lifelong best friend, his favorite person. And the part about how bad it had felt for that all to be gone in an instant, all because Doyoung was suddenly too busy, too well known.It was definitely going to be one of their more interesting jobs.
Relationships: Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Lee Taeyong
Comments: 17
Kudos: 151





	1. One

Taeyong's worked on his fair share of dramas by now; dealt with all kinds of actors, all kinds of conditions, and aside from the times where he gets the opportunity to actually experiment with makeup, with fake wounds and anything else of the sort— the job is boring. It's fine, and he has nothing against it. It's just boring.

He's not the one directing intense scenes, not the one writing them, and certainly not the one _starring_ in them, but rather far behind the cameras, reapplying lip products to actors and actresses for the fourth time that day.

It's really nothing impressive. He hates that he thinks that way, but it's likely the truth. 

"Huh," Yuta voices from where he stands nearby, reading something from a sheet of paper. "Some big names here."

Taeyong exhales from his seat, cleaning a set of brushes he's sure he'd done just a few hours ago. While he doesn't care all too much for the name or status of the actors they work with, and rather as long as they cooperate long enough for him to do what he needs to, Yuta, who both works alongside him and makes good company, is quite the opposite. So, for his sake, Taeyong entertains the thought with a hum. "Mm? Who?"

"The lead from that big drama we worked on last spring— What was the name of it? I don't know, but there was way too many cast members. Oh! And Jung Jaehyun. He seems good."

Taeyong nods along, only half-listening as he mentally counts the brushes he's already washed, and how many he's expecting they'll need for the soon-to-come drama.

"Kim Doyoung—" Yuta lists, and suddenly, every ounce of Taeyong's attention is on him.

"What?"

"Kim Doyoung," The other repeats casually, with a light shrug of his shoulder. "What? You're a fan of his? Seems like he's the lead—"

"Lead?" Taeyong breathes. 

Oh no.

"Yeah," Yuta places the paper at a desk ahead of them, taking a sudden interest in what Taeyong's doing now. "Why? Don't tell me you have a history with an actor that I don't know about."

"A history. I guess you could call it that." The blonde mutters, with enough bitterness in the tone for Yuta to lean forward, more curious with every moment. 

"Tell me."

Taeyong shakes his head, not lifting his gaze from where he washes a particular brush a little too thoroughly. "It's nothing big. Just— Just knew him before he was an actor. Kind of the 'forgets about anyone who isn't famous' type."

Yuta groans. "I hate working with those." 

The other seems satisfied with the explanation, and gets up to attend to something else, though Taeyong's left with a slight sense of guilt.

It's not like he'd lied, exactly. He _had_ known Kim Doyoung before he was an actor, before he was known at all, and he certainly _was_ that type— Taeyong had just conveniently left out the part about Doyoung having once been his lifelong best friend, his favorite person. And the part about how bad it had felt for that all to be gone in an instant, all because Doyoung was suddenly too busy, too well known. 

It was definitely going to be one of their more interesting jobs.

Taeyong can't say he ever gets used to alarms at five in the morning, especially not when he's awake well into the night. Even years into the routine of the career, he's never been able to succeed in adjusting to it.

With his body nagging at him to sneak in another ten minutes of sleep, he forces himself to sit up. 

For no real reason, his eyes wander the walls of the room, all four decorated with writings and paintings and doodles and everything in between. There was a point where he'd grown tired of using canvases, —which, on occasion, he did still use, with at least a dozen half finished pieces leant against walls or furniture of the small apartment— and instead just turned to the walls around him. He liked the atmosphere, the unique feel of a place that was for him and only him.

Doing makeup was fine, and he was good enough at it, but it certainly wasn't the passion that _making_ art was.

Bringing a hand through his hair, he slowly climbs out of his bed, dreading the whole day just a little more than usual.

There's always something daunting about working on something new— new locations, new actors, new requirements, and a whole range of uncertainty, but it's a different case this time, thanks to Doyoung.

He goes through the normal process of getting ready for the day, finishing up with fixing his hair and quickly doing a little makeup for himself, just to rid any evidence of his lingering tiredness.

Taeyong makes sure he has what he needs before heading out, intent on getting himself and Yuta coffee before arriving to the filming set in hopes of caffeine helping him survive the day. He knows the first days of filming are always some of the longest, and always require the most touchups, so he'll risk the possibility of being a few minutes late for the sake of coffee.

After a brief stop, —Taeyong's always thankful the cafe nearest his apartment opens around the time he gets there— he settles back into his car, taking a long sip from his own cup and placing Yuta's to the side. Retrieving his phone, Taeyong types in the address of the filming location, one of the main few for the drama, a high school. 

Once he's figured out the directions thanks to the help of his phone, he locks it and places it at the passenger seat, reversing from where he'd parked to get coffee.

It's close to half an hour of driving later that he pulls up into an already crowded parking lot, and steps out of his car, balancing two coffee cups in one hand and a large makeup kit in another.

Thankfully, a cameraman Taeyong's familiar with is nearby and tells him the direction where they've readied a classroom into a makeshift makeup area. Upon entering, Taeyong finds Yuta, already lining up bottles and brushes and everything of the sort at a desk, where two large mirrors sit surrounded with bright lighting.

Taeyong gives an exhausted huff as Yuta approaches, taking his makeup kit to place down at the desk. 

"Here." He offers the full coffee cup to Yuta, who takes it with a grateful noise and taps painted nails against the styrofoam. 

"You're a life saver." 

"Are the actors here yet?" Taeyong questions, settling in one of the seats and placing his own half-empty cup down.

"Not yet. Should be soon, though, once they're done with hair. Here," Yuta hands Taeyong his phone, motioning for him to scroll through several pictures depicting the looks wanted for the drama. "Nothing complicated, just natural looks. Same kinda thing as usual."

"Cool. Easy job, then." He hands the phone back, then begins to set up his own half of the desk in front of the mirror, organising products in orders of use. 

"Yeah," Yuta chuckles. "Easy, boring, same thing."

Taeyong gives a little laugh of his own too, always glad to have Yuta on his side about the rather restrictive process.

He only has a moment after finishing setting up to take a sip from his coffee before everything kicks off, and there's a steady stream of actors and actresses occupying the seats in front of the mirrors. 

Taeyong gets to work, making the usual small talk he'd grown immune to; Previous roles, how they usually do their makeup, how they spend their free time. Anything to make the fifteen minutes it takes to pass faster and to move onto the next person, and continue with the process until there's no one left.

It's tolerable, and Taeyong's lost in a mindless manner when an all too familiar voice brings him out of the trance he's slipped into, and he clears his throat as he finishes up applying a clear gloss to an actresses' lips. "All done." He forces a smile, and the woman returns it and thanks him, before hurrying off to finish readying herself for a scene.

Taeyong turns to put the tube of gloss back to it's designated spot, as another actor takes the seat ahead of the mirror, and it's before he puts two and two together that he turns and finds Kim Doyoung sat there, eyes on him.

He can tell the other —unsurprisingly— hadn't recognised him without seeing his face, his expression reveals all.

"Taeyong, I—"

What? Taeyong wants to ask that and a million other things. Surprised you remember me? 

But instead of asking that, or anything of the sort, he answers on impulse. With an insult.

"Don't you think you're a little too old for a high school role?"

Immediately, Taeyong regrets it. Not because he feels bad for the insult, or anything like that— But because he can easily get fired on the spot for talking to an actor, especially a _lead_ , in the way he had with Doyoung. 

But he can't help it. He knows every possible thing he can say to the other will be laced with years of bottled up bitterness.

Doyoung seems to be rendered speechless for the moment, and Taeyong spares a glance in Yuta's direction. 

The other's wrapped up in a conversation with the actor Taeyong recognises as Jaehyun, while he applies perhaps too generous an amount of a product to his eyebrows.

It seems no one but Doyoung had heard the comment, and Taeyong exhales, shaking his head and reaching for a light foundation to start the process.

Though his wrist is grabbed, and Doyoung's leaning closer, voice lowered slightly this time. "We should talk."

Taeyong yanks away his wrist from the grip. "Oh, so you have time now?" Again, he can't help it.

"Taeyong." He hates how his name sounds in the other's voice, and he hates that minuscule part of himself that feels comforted by hearing it after so long.

"Just let me get this over with." The blonde mumbles, unscrewing the cap of the foundation and placing it at the desk.

Doyoung doesn't seem to argue with that, but Taeyong can still see an expression he knows too well— that the other _wants_ to say something more, and maybe that pisses him off even more than it would have if he'd said something.

With one hand, he brings a finger to lift Doyoung's chin so he's looking up, and Taeyong can get a better look of his face in the lighting. He still looks good, unfortunately, probably even better than he had the last time Taeyong had seen him, even without an ounce of makeup on.

He starts to apply small amounts of foundation, mainly around Doyoung's cheeks and nose, and he can't help but think with annoyance about how perfectly his face is structured, and how ridiculously soft his skin is to the touch.

Once he's blended the foundation in with a little more harshness than he probably needs to, Taeyong gets to work in applying concealer in a few, smaller areas of Doyoung's face. 

He fills in the other's eyebrows, though only in the slightest, not feeling like he needs it much. The process feels so natural to him that for a moment, he almost forgets who it is he's working on.

"Close your eyes." He tells, and it's only then that he realizes Doyoung's been intently staring at everything Taeyong's done.

Doyoung does as told, and Taeyong takes a breath, sorting through a few shades of eyeshadow until he finds one he feels will suit Doyoung best.

Using his ring finger, he precisely spreads the eyeshadow across the other's eyelids, free hand tilting Doyoung's head so Taeyong can get a better idea of how it'll look. 

He then finds a complimenting, slightly darker shade to this time apply with a brush, focusing mainly on the outer corners of his eyes this time.

Taeyong contemplates finishing off blush, but ultimately decides against it, or adding anything else at all. Doyoung looks fine, and Taeyong doesn't want to spend any longer than necessary on him.

As he's looking over Doyoung in the reflection of the mirror, he catches a brief sight of a producer entering. 

"Doyoung? We're about to start shooting. All finished?"

Taeyong steps back from the other, forcing a friendly smile towards the woman. "Just finished up with his makeup. He's good to go."

The producer grins back at Taeyong. "Awesome. Looks great. We'll need you two on standby for touchups, alright?" She motions to him and Yuta, who's just finished with Jaehyun.

"Of course." Taeyong answers on their behalf, nodding once.

And with that, Doyoung's being guided out of the room and to the first filming area of the day, and for just a moment, his and Taeyong's eyes meet.

And in the half a second before he's disappeared out of the room, Taeyong's sure he feels something. Something that isn't the built up resentment over the years, or even anything negative.

Something good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> surprise surprise i am back with another dotae fic because i can never resist writing them :P all five chapters are already written so expect pretty frequent updates!
> 
> also these are Definitely horribly edited, if any fellow dotae writers are looking to be one another's beta readers please let me know!


	2. Two

Taeyong can't help but roll his eyes at the scene ahead of him. No matter how many dramas he works on, the cheesiness and predictability of them all never fails to get on his nerves.

This one, especially, seems to be irritating him more than usual. And as much as he wants to blame something else— the writing, the acting, anything, he knows it's all for one reason.

Doyoung.

His presence alone makes everything _weird_ and in the few days working close to him he's seen the sides to him he'd tried to forget about.

He's sickeningly charming— and the worst part is he doesn't even have to try.

He's the kind of person who can get anything he wants just by _smiling_ , or doing something equally ridiculously minimal, and Taeyong can't stand it.

All he has to do is get through it, he tells himself. After the dramas finished, they'll be apart again, and Taeyong won't have to see him around every corner.

Thankfully, the scene wraps up in a single take, and no makeup touches are needed.

"Wanna get something to eat?" Yuta asks from beside him, nudging Taeyong's arm to gain his attention.

"Sure, yeah." Taeyong answers, though he's far from hungry, he'd rather be anywhere but there. 

He lets Yuta lead the way to an enclosed table area for actors and crew to eat, with only a few stylists and cameramen sat talking amongst themselves.

With a wordless agreement, Taeyong takes a seat at a particular table, while Yuta goes to get the both of them food. It was rare the food was anything special at filming locations, so Taeyong typically got a salad, while Yuta got anything and everything he pleased.

With a slight sigh, he checked his phone for a moment, attempting to look less alone until Yuta returned with two plastic plates of food, and forks for the both of them.

"Thanks." Taeyong hums, taking one of the plastic forks to immediately stab into a large piece of lettuce and eating it.

"Something up?" Yuta raises an eyebrow, after shoving a mouthful of something Taeyong can't identify into his mouth. "You're never usually that mad with your salad. Is it that Doyoung guy?"

The mention of his name makes Taeyong's expression turn to a telling frown, and he gives a huff, stabbing another piece of lettuce, yet this time not bringing it to his mouth. "Yeah."

"He seems fine to me," Yuta shrugs, but seems to change his mind quickly when Taeyong shoots him a glare. "I mean, no, yeah. He totally sucks."

Taeyong exhales again, pushing the ingredients of the salad around his plate.

"Jaehyun is really cool, you know. He's dating that idol, Kim Jungwoo, I think?" 

"Did he tell you that? Or did you Google that?"

Yuta chuckles, shaking his head. "Googled it. Well, sort of. To be fair, I was searching for his other roles— Anyway. Not important."

Taeyong gives a half smile, grateful the topic of conversation has shifted to something other than Doyoung.

For a moment the two eat in silence— or rather, Yuta eats, while Taeyong pushes food around his plate and occasionally takes a bite.

The area becomes a little more populated when a group of actors from the earlier scene join them, though Taeyong doesn't pay much attention to anything other than his salad until there's someone clearing their throat beside them. "Can I talk to you?"

Both himself and Yuta look up to find none other than Doyoung himself, standing with that disgustingly charming smile that makes Taeyong want to groan.

There's a moment where all three men are completely silent, and Yuta stands, making an odd noise. "I'll, uh, leave you two to it."

Taeyong swears he's never getting Yuta coffee again for this.

Doyoung gives Yuta a grateful nod, waiting for the other to move before sliding into the seat across from Taeyong with a thoughtful hum. 

Taeyong doesn't dare lift his gaze from his salad, sure he's stabbed the particular piece of lettuce at least a dozen times now.

"I wanted to give you something."

He can't lie, he's intrigued by the words, but quickly reminds himself who it is that's saying such a thing, and decides he's no longer hungry. 

Taeyong stands to leave, though just as he had a few days earlier, Doyoung's quick to grab on to his arm to stop him. And although from anyone else the gesture would seem harsh and urgent, there's somehow still a gentleness to Doyoung's touch, almost something caring to it.

This time, Taeyong doesn't immediately pull away, and instead looks to him. Doyoung's expression is desperate, just as much as his words are. "Taeyong, please," He exhales. "Give me a chance."

The older stands there, still for a moment, eyes trained on Doyoung's, before he wills himself to take back his arm. "I don't owe you anything." He says, though slowly lowers himself to sit down again.

"I know," Doyoung answers, seeming relieved enough that Taeyong had chosen to stay, even just for a moment longer. "I just— I found something that I wanted to give to you."

"What?" Taeyong mutters, already exhausted with the conversation.

His gaze had settled back towards his plate of salad by now, yet with movement from Doyoung, he looks back up to find the other retrieving something from his pocket.

Before Taeyong can make any guess as to what the very brief glimpse of color is, Doyoung's carefully placing it in his hand, and the older curls his fingers around the object to find something soft, and it only takes a mere second for him to identify it.

Sure enough, in the palm of his hand sits a messy arrangement of pink and blue threads that Taeyong can't help but run a fingertip over. He can't remember if the colors of the threads had always been so faded, or if it'd happened over time, but he knew they'd always been on the messier side— Taeyong had made sure Doyoung was aware with it, especially after fussing so much over making Doyoung's perfect. He'd said he'd wear it all the time, after all, Taeyong had to.

"Do you remember it?"

Taeyong has to take a moment to register Doyoung's voice.

What a stupid question, he thinks to himself the instant he processes what he'd been asked. Of course he does. He remembers the years of wearing the friendship bracelet that Doyoung had insisted they make for one another when they were barely teenagers, and the ridiculous tan-line it had left on his wrist. 

He remembers the whole process of making them, sitting on the bed of Doyoung's room surrounded by threads and an old notebook belonging to Taeyong's sister, with overly complicated instructions about making friendship bracelets.

And he remembers when Doyoung had stopped wearing his—When his focus had started to drift further from Taeyong, and he was all too occupied with auditions, with being discovered as the 'next big thing' the moment he was out of high school. Taeyong had pretended he didn't notice, but he _had_ , and it sucked; not because he actually cared that much about whether or not Doyoung wore the bracelet, but because he knew it reflected something else, something bigger. 

So one day when he'd been over at Doyoung's, while the other barely paid more than a second of attention to him as he was all too wrapped up in readying himself for one of his first ever roles, Taeyong had left the bracelet at his sidetable, and that was the last he'd ever saw of it. And until now, the last he'd ever thought of it.

But there it was in his hand. The bracelet Doyoung had made for him all those years ago, that he once wouldn't go a day without wearing.

"Yeah." He answers the earlier question, too lost in thought to even think of much more of an answer.

"I remembered I had it when I saw you," Doyoung says thoughtfully. "And I found it pretty easily. I found mine, too."

Taeyong looks up at that, finally tearing his stare away from the bracelet and looking to Doyoung instead. The other gives a small smile, and Taeyong hates that he isn't immediately disgusted by it.

"I couldn't exactly wear it on set, but—"

"Yeah," Taeyong interrupts, nodding. "I get it. I should go."

He's expecting Doyoung to stop him, or ask him to stay, but the other just nods too. "Okay."

So Taeyong leaves, dumping the rest of his salad in the nearest trashcan and willing himself to forget how warm he'd felt inside seeing Doyoung's smile.

He'd kept the bracelet. He's not sure what drove him to, but he can't seem to stop fiddling with it between his fingers— would it even still fit? If he puts it in his pocket, he can't stop _thinking_ about it being there. 

Maybe that's why Doyoung had let him leave with such ease. He'd taken the bracelet, and maybe that was a step towards whatever the other's goal was, and he was satisfied enough with that.

"What's that?"

Taeyong shakes his head, pushing the bracelet into his pocket. "Just some stupid friendship bracelet."

"Oh?" Yuta hums from where he stands by the desk, packing up his own makeup, while Taeyong feels rather reluctant to.

"Doyoung," The blonde starts, once again, he's not sure _why_ he feels the need to explain it to Yuta, but he does. "He's not just, some guy I knew. He was my best friend for like, my whole life basically. And he always wanted to be an actor, but— but when he started you know, actually acting, he forgot about me completely. He stopped hanging out with me, he didn't even make the time to text me anymore. And the bigger roles he started getting, the worse it got, until we didn't even talk anymore." He shrugs, making himself stand up to do something, so he wouldn't be doing nothing but dwelling over his words.

"I didn't exactly plan on being a makeup artist for dramas, you know that. It sort of just happened, and yeah, I knew it was a possibility that maybe we'd cross paths again, but," He exhales. "I don't know. I didn't think I'd feel so... Conflicted, almost."

Yuta's silent, and Taeyong assumes it's to process it all, though there's a moment where he finds himself doubting everything about it, wondering if it was too late to make up some excuse as to how everything he'd said had been an elaborate story he'd made up for fun.

"He gave you that bracelet back?" The other then speaks up, making Taeyong pause sorting through shades of foundation to look over to him.

"Today, yeah. We had them when we were kids, then everything started to happen and I just gave it back to him."

"Seems to me like he wants the friendship you guys had back." Yuta shrugs, lifting a tube of lipgloss to inspect how much was left in it.

Taeyong sighs. "So maybe he does— But he doesn't deserve it. He was the reason we drifted apart so much."

"And he could regret that," The other says casually, looking in Taeyong's direction. "Or want to make it up to you."

Taeyong falls silent, because really, Yuta has a point. Doyoung likely has everything in the world he could ever want, and Taeyong can't think of a reason why he would even bother putting a thought to some friend he used to have unless he regretted what had happened between them.

"Look, I only know what you told me, obviously. And whatever you do, if anything, about the situation is entirely up to you. But would it hurt to give him a chance? He might have changed a lot." 

Taeyong thinks about the question for longer than he realises.

"I guess it wouldn't."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope this chapter isn't too uneventful :P
> 
> also, i meant to mention in the first chapter, bur i know absolutely nothing about makeup so forgive me for any mistakes i make about it! heh


	3. Three

Even after making his decision thanks to Yuta, Taeyong had thought long and hard about it— what it would mean to give Doyoung a chance.

He'd laid awake for the nights after their discussion about it all, and spent more time than he'd like to admit staring at the friendship bracelet. 

He wouldn't bring himself to try it on though, and he wasn't sure if he was because he was afraid of it fitting or not fitting. Either way, wearing it was the farthest thing on his mind whenever he found himself looking at it, or tracing over the patterns of colorful thread with his fingertip.

But thinking about it, the type of people he and Doyoung had been when they'd made them, the friendship they'd had— He knew the Taeyong back then would have wanted to give Doyoung a second chance. So for that Taeyong, he'd do it.

It's subtle at first, because it's all he thinks he can initially manage, but he stops with the casual insulting whenever he had to do Doyoung's makeup— perhaps he should have already, if he wanted to keep his job.

And eventually, when Doyoung makes light conversation, Taeyong actually _talks_ to him, whether it's about scenes or the makeup, anything other than the friendship once between them.

He'd grown to not hate Doyoung's acting either, and most of the time found himself enjoying watching his scenes from the side.

It's one particular scene between Doyoung and the female lead that Taeyong watches closer than usual. They're filming outside of the school, with the two characters conversing on a park bench. Admittedly, Doyoung looks especially nice in the lighting, with a late afternoon sunset that casts the prettiest of shadows over his face.

Yuta's beside him, touching up an actor for the upcoming scene, though Taeyong's gaze never wanders from Doyoung. Acting seems like it comes effortlessly to him, and he can tell he loves what he does. He'd hope so, considering all the time and effort he'd put to getting there.

Doyoung's character says something Taeyong can't make out, and then he leans closer, and all of a sudden they're _kissing_ , and an overwhelming sensation of dread settles over Taeyong.

His hand rests so gently at the side of her face, and the movements between them are as if everything moves in slow motion— whether that's intentional or not for the scene, Taeyong has no clue. 

He's gotten more than enough good looks at Doyoung's lips, he's probably done his makeup more than anybody else has, but he's never paid as much attention as he does now, especially not to how soft they look, how cautious they are against the actresses'.

Doyoung's eyes are shut, though his expression reveals something of so much concentration. 

The kiss lasts all too long before the scenes finally brought to an end, though even as Doyoung and the woman seperate and stand, and Taeyong notices a recognisable shy smile at Doyoung's face, that horrible feeling rests within his chest.

He hears a director call for a second take of the scene, but it doesn't immediately process for Taeyong— what _does_ process is the source of the awful feeling. He's jealous.

Taeyong is horrifically jealous over Doyoung, an actor, filming a kissing scene with someone he'd probably never find interest in outside of the role, and the worst part is that it makes sense.

All the feelings he's ever had towards Doyoung, towards him leaving and abandoning everything that was once between them, they were more than the kind of hurt losing a friendship brought. Doyoung was more than a friendship to Taeyong, he always had been. He had been when they were kids, when they made friendship bracelets, and he had when he'd started to forget about plans he'd made with Taeyong to instead practice for upcoming auditions, and maybe he still was now.

Doyoung had left Taeyong as if he were nothing, whilst Taeyong had _loved_ him the whole time. 

"Hey," His voice is there, but it takes Taeyong a moment to register that Doyoung is physically ahead of him too, standing expectedly. The tone lowers a little when he continues, as for only the two of them to hear, "Something wrong?"

Something being wrong is probably the worst understatement Taeyong's ever heard. Everything is wrong, and Taeyong is furious. He doesn't know if it's with Doyoung, for making his stupid charm work on him after all this time, or it's with himself for feeling this way to begin with.

Taeyong swallows, realizing the reason for Doyoung being there— he's supposed to touch up his stupid makeup so he can shoot that kissing scene _again_ , and for a very bitter moment, Taeyong just wants to mess up his makeup and ruin his perfect little actor's facade. 

But he doesn't, and doesn't say anything in reply either, just steps forward, taking a clear lip product from a table nearby and dabbing some on his finger.

Doyoung instinctively purses his lips, and Taeyong feels a fresh wave of every emotion he's experienced in the last few minutes wash over him. Stupid Doyoung and his pretty, soft lips.

Carefully, he adds a few touches to the other's lips. It's a miracle his hand isn't shaking in the process with everything running through his mind, and he can't stop feeling that _sinking_ of his heart like he had when their lips had connected—

"Taeyong?"

Taeyong's gaze lifts from Doyoung's lips to meet his eyes instead.

They're like that for just a moment, until Taeyong shakes his head, not standing for it. "Fuck you, Doyoung. I can't believe I was stupid enough to give you another chance."

"Wh— Taeyong—"

Taeyong couldn't really care less if there's another actor nearby he's supposed to touch up, he can't stand to be anywhere near Doyoung any longer.

So without another glance in his direction, he leaves.

Maybe he's being irrational.

Maybe it's absurd to be so mad at someone in this way, in this circumstance.

Or maybe he isn't at all. Doyoung's the one in the wrong, anyway, right?

Taeyong gives a long exhale, resting his head against the brick wall behind him. He's sure Yuta would have followed, once he'd finished up with whatever was left to do, if Taeyong hadn't gone practically as far from the location as he could.

He'd walked and walked until he was on the complete opposite side of the school, where he was sure they didn't even plan to film in— It was a plain area, bricked walls and old looking seats, but at least it was quiet enough for him to get a somewhat coherent thought in. 

He's not sure how long he's been there, just sitting and thinking. Though he's certain filming will wrap up soon enough, if it hasn't already. Their main focus is exterior scenes these days anyway, so most day's schedules never seem to past 7, which Taeyong supposes is a positive, if he's _really_ looking for one.

He wonders how many more times they shot that kissing scene. 

Without a thought, he's fiddling with the friendship bracelet. He hates the habit he'd developed of carrying it in his pocket in the same way he had when he'd noticed Doyoung had stopped wearing his own. There was still hope in the back of his mind then, that maybe Doyoung was just forgetting to wear his. It was a few weeks after that he'd left his own at Doyoung's house.

There's footsteps, and though Taeyong wants to hope for it to be Yuta, or some producer or staff of the drama, he knows his luck isn't that good.

And he doesn't have to look up from where his stare has become fixed on the bracelet to recognise when the footsteps slow to a stop, and he feels the presence of someone standing nearby, in complete silence.

He knows it's Doyoung without properly looking— both because he recognises the ridiculous looking school uniform on him anywhere, and because he knows no one else would bother to look for him this far out, it'd always been that way.

Doyoung stands so still that Taeyong wonders if he might have silently left, but after a minute or two, he steps closer, then lowers himself to sit against the brick wall beside Taeyong.

Taeyong still doesn't look up, his focus only on the bracelet. 

He hears the other fiddling, and registers he's reaching within his pocket for something. 

"You did a much better job than me, you know." Doyoung hums, and Taeyong can't help but look over to find him holding the bracelet he'd once made. While Doyoung had gone for pink and blue, Taeyong had decided on pink and yellow. And yeah, even if things weren't the way they were between them, Taeyong knew he'd done better.

He doesn't say anything in reply, which makes the younger exhale softly. "What's going on?"

Taeyong can't help but roll his eyes, looking to the side. "You're an idiot."

"I mean, I can probably make a guess, but—" 

"Can you? What gave it away?" Taeyong gives a humourless laugh. "Big surprise that it kind of hurts a person when you forget about them to be a fucking actor, isn't it?"

"It wasn't like that." Doyoung answers calmly, and Taeyong scoffs. 

"Then how was it?!" He snaps, standing up, with Doyoung quickly follows in doing. "You didn't even talk to me anymore, because, what? I wasn't famous? I wasn't someone who could help you get to your stupid little dream?"

"Taeyong—"

"You don't even have a clue how bad that fucking hurt, Doyoung. You were my _best_ friend, fuck, you were basically all I had!" Somewhere within him, Taeyong knows he should drop it before he says something stupid, but he can't bring himself to, not when he's never had the chance to give Doyoung even a fraction of what's been weighing on his mind for years now. "And you could just walk out of my life like it was nothing, like _I_ was nothing."

In all the time apart, not once had Taeyong cried about it. Now granted, he cried about a lot of other things, and he'd certainly been sad, but he never quite found himself able to cry over losing Doyoung. 

Yet now, an awful feeling told him he was going to.

"Did you even care about me?" His voice lowers to ask, and he sees Doyoung's expression soften from concern to something entirely different.

"Of course I did," Doyoung tells him, stepping closer in the slightest. "I still _do_."

"Then why did you leave?" Taeyong's too far gone, he's sure he's going to start crying any moment now, but he can't bring himself to stop. "And why do you think you can just come back like nothing happened, and— and give me this?" He raises the friendship bracelet still between his fingers. "Is this supposed to fix what you did?" 

In a burst of _something_ , Taeyong pathetically tosses the friendship bracelet at Doyoung's chest. 

He's surprised he can even manage it, with a mind and actions so clouded with everything he's kept bottled up for so long finally coming out, leaving him equally relieved and terrified of the consequences for it all.

He's not sure when he starts crying, or how long it takes him to register the feeling of warm tears at his face. And he's not sure when he goes from that to sobbing in Doyoung's arms, but he does, and he can't quite bring himself to leave the sudden comfort it brings him, clinging onto the other and focusing on the way his arms so naturally settle around Taeyong's waist, and how Doyoung traces soft circles in the small of the older's back.

The closeness is so familiar, it almost makes Taeyong forget all the time that's passed, especially when he feels so reassured, so _safe_.

It makes him sure of only one thing.

He absolutely still loves Doyoung.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am such a lazy editor, i apologize for any mistakes in here :P


	4. Four

Taeyong stays in Doyoung's arms for what's definitely longer than he should.

Even when he's stopped crying, and his grip on Doyoung loosens, he still lingers there. 

It feels pathetic in more ways than one, but it brings him a sense of being complete, standing there with him, both silent, with nothing but Doyoung occasionally offering him reassuring and soft touches at his back or arm.

"I should go." He mumbles, though doesn't move for a moment longer.

Doyoung seems hesitant. "Are you sure? If you need me to take you home, or anything—"

"I'm fine." Taeyong answers immediately, brushing him off. Whether it's a lie for himself, Doyoung, or both of them, he doesn't know. Everything feels like a rollercoaster of back and forth.

He's too exhausted to be either upset or angry at Doyoung, or at anything about the situation anymore, and all he's left is confused.

So, he leaves. 

He can tell Doyoung wanted to say more, though Taeyong hadn't exactly given him the chance to, and he can't decide whether he regrets that or not.

There's a few days before filming resumes, and Taeyong spends the time off doing nothing but sitting around and overthinking everything, something he considered himself very good at by now— he wondered a million things about Doyoung, yet he was still in no way prepared for seeing him again, and having to do his makeup and watch him act in cliche scenes like nothing had happened between them, and Taeyong hadn't broken down sobbing in Doyoung's arms days before.

And really, he hasn't even begun to get his feelings in order, despite the days of endless overthinking. It's still all so confusing and nonsensical, he can't make sense of it.

What he knows is that he loves Doyoung, he always has, and that he shouldn't.

But though the majority of himself wants to discredit Doyoung as the ignorant and careless actor who wouldn't bother to even look at someone who wasn't as well known as himself that he's pictured him as for so long, he knows _that_ Doyoung wouldn't have let him talk in the way he had, and wouldn't have held him so closely.

They're somehow expected even earlier than usual once the few days have passed, with the directors wanting to rush in the last few urgent exterior scenes before expected rain that day.

So Taeyong's alarm rings at a painful 4:30, and he goes through the normal process of getting ready with an extra added layer of exhaustion. 

Once he arrives to the location, the atmosphere is more rushed than usual. The earlier wakeup time meant he hadn't been able to stop in for coffee either, so Taeyong's hope for the day was already at a low.

It seems a little easier when he gets into the flow of things, and everything about the atmosphere of the set is so busy he can barely focus on his own thoughts.

But then it's Doyoung in the seat ahead of him, and everything seems to slow down to a comfortable, normal place.

Taeyong doesn't greet him— he's not sure how he would, after everything, and just gets to work on his makeup as usual.

"Are you free after filming?" Doyoung asks once Taeyong reaches what's around the halfway point of the makeup routine they've both grown used to.

The older sighs softly, only faltering his movements for a second. "Why?" It's probably a dumb question, but he doesn't want to let himself answer immediately.

"You should come over to my place, if you want," Doyoung continues, as casual as ever, just like he'd invited Taeyong over when they were younger. "It'd give us a chance to talk properly."

There's something so familiar about the idea of hanging out at Doyoung's place that Taeyong immediately resists it. "My car is here, though. Let's just go somewhere to eat, or something."

Taeyong notices Doyoung's expression change in the slightest. "I don't know."

"Oh, right," Taeyong exhales, giving a little shake of his head as he reaches for the usual eyeshadow that worked best for Doyoung. "You'd get recognised, right?"

Doyoung sighs too. "I just don't want you wrapped up in that—"

"Because I'm a nobody?" Taeyong chuckles humourlessly, turning back to face the other completely again.

"No," The younger answers immediately. "Because I care about you."

Even jusy a few days ago, he would have brushed the comment off as just the Doyoung that he knew now, charming and likeable in every sense, and almost something faked. But now, it felt so genuine, so much like the Doyoung that Taeyong was once more familiar with than anyone else, that he finds himself nodding softly. "We can talk about it later, I guess. Close your eyes."

Doyoung does, though only after giving Taeyong a gentle smile.

It hadn't taken much further convincing for Taeyong to agree to meeting at Doyoung's place, and though the other offered to pick him up, —and Taeyong had fought back surprise at him not having people for that— he'd decided to drive there himself, mostly because he couldn't stand for awkwardly having to arrange a ride home if he decided he didn't want to stay.

Once filming had ended for the day, Doyoung handed Taeyong his phone, and the older took a moment to process he wanted his number. He shook his head slightly to himself, recalling how they'd once had each other's memorised, and typed it in quickly, handing the phone back to Doyoung.

It was only a few hours after he'd returned home that his phone lit up with a notification. Taeyong, with thoughts all too focused on the intense feeling of being in-between something familiar and something unknown, had taken notice of it immediately, and lifted the device to read Doyoung's text, confirming it was him and sending his address.

He spends longer than he'd like to admit procrastinating leaving, —so much so that he wonders if it might have been a wiser idea to just get picked up— before finally forcing himself out the door of his apartment.

After putting the address into his phone and looking over the directions there, he drives with surprisingly little encounters with bad traffic.

He's sure he's in the right area without having to double check his phone, the surrounding houses and apartments looking perfectly expensive enough for an actor like Doyoung to live in.

It's only when he's assuring himself he's found the right building number that he glances back at his phone, and finds somewhere to park his car. And Taeyong can't help but have a brief internal debate with himself about why he's doing this, though the reoccurring argument to the moments of doubt seems to be one thing— that Doyoung is different. He's changed, in the least, to someone who deserves a chance from Taeyong.

So with a long exhale, and after sending a text to Doyoung to tell him he's there, he gets out of his car, trying to relate the situation to working on a new drama. Some familiarity in people and things, just a new place. Maybe it could be like that, he decides.

Bringing a hand through his hair, only a few moments pass before the doors of the building open to reveal Doyoung, looking a mix of relieved and something else, surprised, maybe. Had he thought Taeyong wouldn't come?

"Hey," He greets, with a slight, friendly smile. Since Taeyong had last seen him on set, he'd opted to switch to some more casual clothes, and for once his hair wasn't in the specific manner the stylists always did for him— instead just a hint messy. "Come on. I'll take you up."

Taeyong just nods, and tries not to pay attention to how Doyoung's hand seems to naturally find itself at his back as he guides him inside and towards an elevator. Touches like that had once been so instinctive between them.

At first he doesn't give much thought to the process of it all, and stands himself against the back of the elevator. Though he takes notice when Doyoung presses a button, and steps back to reveal a brightly lit orange 'PH'.

Taeyong exhales, shaking his head in amusement. "I should have known you lived in a penthouse."

Doyoung gives a soft chuckle, bringing fingers through his hair and looking towards the door as the elevator begins to move. "Can't go wrong with the view."

The older's eyes linger on Doyoung for a little longer than necessary. Though acting is so clearly what he loves doing, the type of carefree he is when he's in a casual setting is what Taeyong can only describe as endearing.

Faster than expected, the doors open, and the two step out, with Doyoung guiding the way through a wide hallway, coming to a large door that Taeyong can only assume is the entrance to his place.

His suspicions are confirmed a moment later, when Doyoung pushes the door open and motions for Taeyong to enter first. He does, while Doyoung follows, pulling the door to a shut after them.

The apartment is simultaneously everything he'd expected and nothing like it— overly expensive looking white furniture and decorations lining shelves and walls, and the occasional painting he'd figure cost more than he'd make in years worth of applying makeup to actors.

Amongst the ridiculously large living room, it's the painting closest to the door that catches the most of his attention; a forest illuminated in an orange-yellow sunset, a lake to one side.

Doyoung seems to take notice, and Taeyong hears a thoughtful hum from behind himself. "It's nice, isn't it?" 

Taeyong doesn't answer. Sure, it is, but nothing about it feels like _Doyoung_.

"Do you still draw?"

Taeyong looks from the painting to the floor instead, which somehow even seems expensive too. "Yeah, when I have the time."

"Good," Doyoung answers, and once a few moments pass, Taeyong fixes his gaze on him instead. "You're still the best artist I've ever known."

The blonde can only really give a half-nod, the idea of compliments from Doyoung still feeling faraway and odd. 

And he can't seem to look at him for all too long either, soon glancing around the surrounding area instead. Paintings, vases, decorations, shelves of books and even some awards— but somethings missing.

"You don't have any pictures."

"What?"

Taeyong swallows, realising he'd thoughtlessly made the comment aloud, and now had to follow up about it. "I mean... You just don't have pictures around, you know?" He makes a vague gesture around the living room. "Of family, friends, whatever. It's just— just stuff." Really, he has nothing to lose, so he figures he can't go wrong with honesty about what he's thinking.

Doyoung still doesn't look like he quite gets what Taeyong's saying, and then his expression softens in an instant realisation. "Oh." He looks around like Taeyong had, as if it's his first time there too. 

He's silent, silent for so long that Taeyong starts to wonder if it was an indication for him to leave.

"You think you're the only one I accidentally pushed away?"

Taeyong blinks. 

Doyoung chuckles again, though compared to earlier, it's an empty noise, a blank expression. "I was so focused on my career that I didn't realize I'd pretty much pushed away everyone I loved," He looks out a nearby floor-to-ceiling window, where stars start to emerge in the sky. "It was stupid of me, I know it. But you know how I was, just so set on getting to my dream that it was all that mattered to me for a while." Doyoung shrugs his shoulders lightly.

The older feels like he could say a million things, though he senses Doyoung has more to say himself, so he remains silent for the moment.

"And even if I didn't realize it, or didn't mean it, it's still entirely on me. I know that. But that doesn't mean I don't regret it." 

"But you got what you wanted, right?" Taeyong finds himself asking.

"Yeah, I guess I did. What I thought I wanted, at least." Doyoung breaks his stare towards the window, shaking his head.

They're both quiet for a moment, Taeyong feeling frozen in place.

"When I saw you— I don't know, I thought it was my chance at getting things back to normal, whatever that is. Back to what they used to be," Doyoung eventually continues on. "It was stupid. I didn't realize how badly I'd hurt you by leaving. I feel horrible—"

"How was it stupid?" Taeyong interrupts, shaking his head and finally taking a step forward, closing a decent amount of the space that had naturally ended up between them. "I mean, what are the chances we'd end up together after so long? After both ending up alone?"

Doyoung looks closely at Taeyong, like he's trying to read further into his words through his expression.

Taeyong can't believe _he's_ the one saying this, but it all comes out before he can think too deeply about it. "Maybe it's both of our chances. To get back what we used to have, you know?"

And for the first time in as long as he can remember, his thought process actually makes sense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one chapter left! i'm working on another dotae fic i already like much better than this one :P


	5. Five

Doyoung and Taeyong spent what was surely hours just talking that night, though he only needed the first few minutes of conversation to be sure of practically everything.

Doyoung had never done anything to _intentionally_ hurt Taeyong, and if anything, it'd seemed in the process he'd hurt himself just as much. 

He'd been viewing the whole situation entirely wrong. Doyoung had been right. It was a chance, an alignment of everything to bring them together again. 

And he can't help the minuscule part of himself that thinks, or hopes, that maybe they're meant to find something other than the friendship they once had— something more.

Things settle from uncertain to comfortable easier than Taeyong expects them to.

Instead of dreading it, he looks forward to meeting Doyoung at random points throughout the days of filming, and the other even brings smiles and light laughter out of him while Taeyong fusses over his makeup.

The jealous feeling still lingers as he watches Doyoung film scenes, but he's better at ignoring it— or in the least hating it less. 

And of course, there's still the knowledge of the entirety of his feelings for Doyoung, something he's still not sure to handle. Once the drama filming is over, he doesn't have a clue what that means for them.

He's stood by Doyoung, touching up his makeup as the other sits down, reading carefully from a script, with his own lines highlighted in a bright yellow.

"Are you nervous?" He asks, since he's never really seen him study a script so closely before, or pay much attention to them at all. From what Taeyong's gathered, he only has to glance at a page of lines for a few seconds to have them memorised.

"Sort of," Doyoung answers thoughtfully, turning the page. "Break up scenes are always intense. There's a lot to remember."

Putting down a brush, Taeyong leans closer to look over the page. He can see Doyoung's scribbled notes around his own lines. "You'll be fine. You wouldn't have got the role if you couldn't do it." He offers, straightening again, though Doyoung takes his hand to tug him back into the closeness.

He looks down to their hands, and how tightly Doyoung holds onto him, in a way that makes him feel at ease. Safe.

"I guess you're right," Doyoung says, bringing a thumb along the side of Taeyong's hand. There's something so endearing about it, him showing any kind of affection here, in front of dozens of actors and crew. "Thanks."

Taeyong nods once. "Of course. You're lucky you have such a good makeup artist to get you through crying scenes, you know."

The other chuckles softly, giving his hand a squeeze. "I am. Though I'd probably do better in the scene with that makeup artist watching."

Taeyong's smiling before he realizes, and directing his gaze towards their still connected hands. "I guess I can, then. For the sake of moral support and all." He teases, and Doyoung smiles too.

The other's called in for the scene a moment later, and he rises from his seat, seeming to release Taeyong's hand reluctantly.

After tidying up the products he'd used on Doyoung, he quietly made his way over to watch the filming of the scene they'd already started on. 

Sure enough, there Doyoung was, performing it like the emotion didn't take an ounce of effort. Taeyong felt rather stupid for not acknowledging his talent earlier, but now he knew it was there, he _really_ saw it in everything he did. Acting was so clearly what he was meant to do.

He's admittedly invested in the scene, when he feels a nudge at his arm. "Are you coming to eat?" He hears Yuta in a hushed voice, knowing well to keep quiet while filming if he doesn't want a simultaneous glare from at least a dozen people nearby.

"Maybe later." Taeyong responds distantly, eyes still trained on the scene ahead of them, where Doyoung's character was questioning if the female lead had ever really loved him. 

Yuta's silent for a moment, then gives a little, amused noise, as if he's realising what's going on. "I'm guessing you did give him another chance after all?"

A chance felt like an understatement, Taeyong had given him a lot more than that— trust, for the most part.

"Yeah," He exhales. "I guess I did."

It becomes something constant, for Taeyong to sit in on all of Doyoung's scenes, and something he _enjoys_ , he realizes quickly. 

When they near the end of filming, he feels a sense of dread unlike anything he's felt in the last few days of any job he's done. He won't see Doyoung everyday anymore, won't get to do his makeup and watch him film and have those brief conversations between scenes that make him smile like a complete idiot. He'll lose everything he's grown so used to, and he hates that.

Both himself and Doyoung know the busyness that comes with the final day on set, so Taeyong isn't quite surprised when Doyoung asks him if he's free after they wrap up for the second to last day. And though he knows well that won't be until well into the night, he says yes without a thought.

Taeyong's already tired as he packs up his makeup kit, but the exhaustion seems to fade the instant there's a familiar voice behind himself. "Need any help with that?"

Immediately smiling, Taeyong shakes his head. "You'll just put everything in the wrong place."

"But I'll do it helpfully." Doyoung jokes, and Taeyong feels him move a little closer. 

Almost everyone had left already— Doyoung was always one of the last to leave, and though Taeyong was tired, he waited for him regardless, and the set was the peaceful kind of quiet he'd never really experienced it before.

He feels an arm circle around his waist from behind, and his heart gives a familiar race at the gesture. In the few months both working together and spending time together outside of the set, the not-so-subtle touches had grown more and more frequent, and each time gave Taeyong the same comfortable feeling. Even when they'd been younger, though casual contact between them was nothing on the unusual side, it was never as much as _this_ , and never felt so special.

Taeyong leans back a little into the touch, and Doyoung hums. "Are you up for a walk?"

"A walk?" He echoes, abandoning what he's doing to turn to Doyoung, where their faces meet a little more closer than Taeyong had anticipated.

Doyoung doesn't seem to notice, and if he does, he isn't phased by it. "Yeah. I wanna take you somewhere nearby."

Taeyong's nodding before Doyoung's even finished speaking. "Sure," He agrees, and the other hums softly. "Just let me finish up with this?"

"Mhm." Doyoung nods, stepping away and Taeyong feels the sense of feeling complete slip away along with the other's touch.

Once he's finished, Doyoung makes a satisfied noise and starts towards the exit, nodding for Taeyong to follow.

"You're not gonna tell me where you're taking me?" Taeyong questions, though already follows him.

The younger chuckles, guiding Taeyong through the main exit and to the parking lot, where they're immediately greeted with a cool breeze, and Taeyong finds himself moving a little closer to Doyoung. To keep warm, of course. 

"It's just a nice view, nothing all that special." 

Taeyong's sure it _is_ that special, but doesn't mention that, and instead just focuses on their surroundings as they move through the parking lot, and eventually come to a pathway lit with street lamps that Doyoung leads them across.

For a few minutes, they just walk in a comfortable silence, and Taeyong enjoys the feel of it all; the quiet of the night, the occasional cool breeze, though mostly just Doyoung being there with him, and the feeling that the two of them are in their own world, far from anything else.

They approach the view of a lake, one Taeyong's probably drove past a million times, though never gave an ounce of attention to. Up close, and in the late of the night, it looks straight out of a piece of art he might find in Doyoung's home.

They slow to a stop by a few standalone trees, and Taeyong has to look around to grasp the beauty of it all; the bright stars above and the soft grass beneath, and the calming quiet of everything, like the entire world but them was asleep, and the time was for them and them only.

"It's nice." He comments quietly, and Doyoung hums in agreement, sitting down on the grass. 

Taeyong joins him a moment later, and together they sit, looking out onto the water, reflecting more stars than Taeyong could count.

"I'm sorry I left." Doyoung speaks up, and Taeyong immediately looks in his direction, though the younger's stare is focused on the water. 

Taeyong watches him, reading his expression. "You didn't even know you'd left until it was too late," He says with a sincerity he couldn't have imagined just a few months earlier. "It wasn't on purpose."

"I still wish I hadn't—"

"Doyoung," Taeyong interrupts, shifting closer to him. "I forgive you."

At that, Doyoung looks to him, and their eyes meet. "What?"

"I forgive you," He says again. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't."

It's Doyoung's turn to look over Taeyong's expression, as if searching for something. And Taeyong's sure he imagines the fraction of a second where his gaze falls to his lips, though that's not what he should be focused on in the moment.

"I still hate that I hurt you," He speaks slowly at first. "But I'm glad I could get another chance."

In only a second, Taeyong contemplates a dozen things at once. How he could tell Doyoung right then and there, everything that's taken years to make sense in his mind—

"Close your eyes." Doyoung says, bringing Taeyong out of his train of thought.

"Hm?" He figures he's misheard, but the other just raises an eyebrow.

"Close your eyes."

"Why?"

"Because." He shrugs.

Taeyong gives Doyoung an unsure look, but eventually does anyway. 

There's the briefest of moments where he thinks the whole thing might have been some cruel prank, and when he opens his eyes Doyoung will be long gone, but there's suddenly a gentle grip at his wrist, lifting his hand. 

He's unsure, though only for a second, before he registers what Doyoung's doing, and he feels the sensation of something being put around his wrist, then slightly adjusted.

"You can open your eyes now." Doyoung says, and when Taeyong does, the younger seems a little closer than he had been when he'd shut them.

And sure enough, when he looks to his wrist, he sees the friendship bracelet, perfectly fit around him as if he'd never taken it off in the first place. As if Doyoung had never been gone in the first place.

Doyoung, hands still at Taeyong's arm, gently runs a finger over it. "Third times the charm, right?"

Taeyong finds himself smiling softly, at the bracelet, at the moment, at _Doyoung_.

"It hurt so much because I loved you," He says, everything jumbling together as if he'd said a single word. "I always did, I think. I never realized it until I saw you again, but— but you were so much more than just my best friend. Maybe you still are." 

The moment he finishes rambling, he processes how incredibly silent everything is. And he's not sure what he wants Doyoung to say, but he wants _something_.

"Can I kiss you?" The other asks, as casually as asking about the weather.

Taeyong blinks. "Kiss me?"

"Yeah," Doyoung chuckles. "Kiss you."

He gives a slight nod, Doyoung's hand is soon at the side of his face, fingertips so gentle at Taeyong's skin that he can barely feel them there, and their faces are so close—

And then Doyoung's lips are against his own, and god, Taeyong had thought he had a good idea of how ridiculously soft they were from the months of touching up after kissing scenes, but he hadn't even imagined the half of it.

The kiss was perfect; slow and gentle and the kind of moment Taeyong could see himself replaying in his mind for the rest of his life.

When they seperate, —though barely move an inch away from one another's faces— he knows Doyoung is smiling, and only a second later, he is too.

"You were so much more than my best friend too, Taeyong," Doyoung tells him, voice just above a whisper. "You still are."

Taeyong would smile more, if he could. But his cheeks already hurt, so he settles for leaning in to peck at Doyoung's lips once more. "Were you ever this cheesy before filming all those dramas?"

"Nope. Guess it's a talent I got along the way." Doyoung shrugs, and Taeyong grins all over again.

"Well, you're lucky I like it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woo! thank you so much for reading and getting to the end of this rather messy disaster of a fic :P
> 
> now somebody please yell at me to get to writing my other 82736 wips and start publishing my latest jaewoo fic


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